


Build The Life You Want To Lead

by TransScribe



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: ADHD Jim, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Autistic Spock, Genderfluid Bones, Genderfluid Character, Jim's a genius, M/M, Maybe a little OOC but they're young so forgive me for that, Sarek has messed up priorities, This is only AOS because George dies honestly, Trans Male Character, Xe/xir/xem pronouns, also Jim probably has PTSD, demiboy spock, meltdowns, that's mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransScribe/pseuds/TransScribe
Summary: James T. Kirk and S'chn T'gai Spock; this universe's version of their epic friendship. Except their lives have never been easy, not once, so why should this be an exception?----Childhood friends trope except the boys are trans, because people always say to write the fic they want to read in the fandom. Also, Spock's autistic and Jim has ADHD because I have that power.





	Build The Life You Want To Lead

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things to note:
> 
> 1\. I'm trans, and I know I use deadnames and such at the beginning, because I believed that was the best way to tell the story. At the beginning, the kids don't know they're trans yet, and so I'm going along with their discovery and using the names they use at the time. I know other trans people would probably make different decisions, but for clarity of the story this is how I approached it, and I'm genuinely sorry if it makes anyone uncomfortable. Just know that I'm aware some people might have approached it differently and take that into account in any comments you make. Thanks! 
> 
> 2\. I'm autistic, so get your ableism away from me and also Spock. 
> 
> 3\. I've edited this myself a couple of times, but I needed to publish it before I overthought it any more so it's not completely beta'd

They met through their mothers, who in turn had met at a Starfleet function Winona had been involved in and Sarek had been invited to. They had been seated at the same table, even. Winona had introduced herself and Amanda’s response had been recognition as the woman who had written a paper she had been intrigued by, as opposed to George Kirk’s widow, and at the time that had been a strong enough foundation for a lasting friendship. Sarek, even, had been impressed by her intellect and knowledge of Vulcan culture, extending the interaction further, allowing it to stray into personal matters.

The two had spoken of their children, Winona expressing pride in the work of her eldest, her son Sam, and had then spoken of her awe at the capabilities of her youngest. They found a commonality in that they both had a child of impressive intelligence who proved to be a handful, sometimes; Amanda’s first-and-only as of yet, and Winona’s second. Suggestions of introducing the children were made, and so it began.

 

‘It’, of course, referring to the so-called ‘epic friendship’ of this universe’s Jim and Spock. The journey from here appears obvious; a connection of the two shaping their formative years, leading them where the two belong from the beginning - by the other’s side.

We are, however, referring to two beings whose lives have likely never once been simple, this being no exception.

 

The difficulty, in this situation, was that Amanda Grayson and Winona Kirk were referring to their daughters.

 

——

 

‘Katie’ Kirk had come into the world in the middle of a disaster, and hadn’t stopped moving since - a joke often made by various family members, but never Winona. She was pleased enough to have her ‘miracle girl’ to not complain when said child would babble at her for long enough that Winona wondered when her child ever stopped to breathe. Katie was a writhing ball of energy from almost day one, but had the ability to charm everyone enough that they loved her anyway. She was a box of questions, full to the brim, always asking and learning, desperate to understand everything. Her young years were an endless stream of wanting to know  _ more _ , as much as Winona and Sam and those surrounding her could give. The child was a genius, this much was clear to all, which brought frustrations in a school who couldn’t challenge her and peers who were intimidated by her quick words and frustrated by her need to move, touch, discover.

This had led to advancements in classes, Sam occasionally explaining concepts he was learning, Winona providing side projects to extend her as often as possible.

She was somewhat of a handful, an intellect that needed to be constantly fed and an energy that seemed never ending, but she was loved dearly for all her quirks. It did mean, however, that Winona felt it was her responsibility to stay on planet and ensure Katie was challenged in her studies. Starfleet offered her a position as Admiral, and allowed her to work from Iowa with the exception of Starfleet functions taking place in San Francisco.

When Winona had mentioned to Katie that a friend of hers would be visiting from another planet with her own child, Katie had made it her mission to learn as much of the Vulcan language and culture as possible before her guests arrived.

On the day, Sam had made plans to spend time with friends from school, leaving just Winona and Katie to greet the guests.  Katie greeted the Ambassador and his daughter with the ta’al and, in Vulcan good enough to impress a native speaker, said “Greetings, I am Katie,” before switching back to Standard and adding “but I’d like it better if you called me Kay.”

Returning the ta’al, the Ambassador spoke in Vulcan “I am Sarek,” gesturing towards the lady by his side “my wife, Amanda,” and gesturing towards the child next to him, “and my daughter, T’Pala.” To Winona, in Standard, he asked “where did she learn to speak Vulcan?”

With a shrug, she told him simply, “she taught herself.”

 

——

 

T’Pala and Kay got on like a house on fire.

The Vulcan had been interested in how much Kay had learnt of her culture, and had offered to teach her more, if she was interested.

Kay had wanted to know what T’Pala knew of Earth, and what Vulcan was like from the perspective of someone living there, as opposed to the distant and factual accounts she had read about.

T’Pala did not appear to be thrown by Kay’s quick words or seemingly random changes of topic, and was intrigued by the clear differences between this child and T’Pala’s own mother, though they were of the same species.

T’Pala explained the way the Vulcan education system worked, the topics they learnt, as well as the level of difficulty at which they were taught, and Kay was instantly envious. She spoke of how the Terran system worked, the boredom she experienced in her classes, and what she was studying in her own time. The two were pleased (in surprisingly similar ways; Kay had jumped up and down in excitement, and T’Pala had done something that could only be described as a wiggle, eyes slightly wider than normal, which was about the Vulcan equivalent of Kay’s actions) to find that they were about matched in intelligence, and shared many similar interests. Kay was ecstatic to find that T’Pala could be as excited as herself when talking about something of interest; apparently Vulcan control did not extend to the speed of which you delivered information, which Kay identified as a telltale sign of intense investment in a topic.

The two of them spoke to, with, and at each other with a speed that meant the adults were hard pressed to follow.

“She’s not usually this talkative,” Amanda mused, slightly surprised, but mostly amused.

“She is,” Winona snickered.

 

——

 

At the end of two weeks, T’Pala and her family were required back on Vulcan. Kay was reluctant to let her friend go, but allowed her to do so with promises to keep in touch as much as possible until they were able to see each other again.

“You have to keep teaching me Vulcan,” she insisted. “I want to become fluent, so you have to keep in contact with me or else my acquisition of knowledge will be damaged and it’ll be on you,” Kay continued, with all the severity of a nine-year-old.

“Then you must continue teaching me Spanish in return.”

Winona’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been teaching her Spanish?”

“Yeah. I teach T’Pala Spanish, she teaches me Vulcan, we learn Andorian or something together, and then we can both speak four languages and be really cool.”

Amanda let out a chuckle. “Well we can’t get in the way of a plan that well thought out, can we?” She smiled at her friend.

“Definitely not,” Winona agreed.

“We must depart, my wife,” Sarek reminded her. Amanda nodded. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Kay.”

“You also, Ambassador,” she replied with a smile. Kay grinned at Amanda, then T’Pala, and have her a little wave.

The three of them got on a shuttle, and then they were gone.

 

——

 

The next time T’Pala visited was in the middle of summer, and the kids found themselves outside a lot. T’Pala found the weather outside to be mostly pleasant, and Kay was used to it.

They sat in the shade of one of Kay’s favourite trees; the biggest one on the edge of one of the fields. T’Pala was reading a book she had borrowed from the house (which surprised Kay - usually Winona didn’t let her take the books outside for fear of some damage coming to them, but she seemed to trust the half-Vulcan more than her own daughter), Kay resting against the tree, eyes closed.

“Hey T’Pala,” Kay began, “did you know I have ADHD?”

The Vulcan paused, lifting her head from the book to look over at Kay. “I did not, exactly, but I do not find myself surprised.”

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone really was.” Kay picked at the grass around her feet. “I found out for sure a month or two ago. The teachers at school kept pushing my mom to get me tested. I don’t know why they were so insistent if they knew anyway. I guess just so that they were all sure or something.”

T’Pala hummed in response. “Perhaps they could not help you in the ways you needed unless they had the confirmation.”

“Maybe.” She moved so she was lying down, face next to T’Pala’s crossed legs. “I don’t really mind though. People seem to think I should be upset about it or something.” Kay murmured, tugging at the hem of T’Pala’s robes. “I mean, it’s just who I am, right? I can’t change it, so why be sad about it?”

“Indeed,” T’Pala responded, eyebrow rising. They were silent for a while, Kay’s hand twisting in the black fabric, T’Pala’s eyes returning to the book.

“I think I’m gonna fall asleep,” Kay murmured.

“Do you wish to go inside?”

After a pause, Kay lifted her head so it lay upon T’Pala’s right knee. She wiggled, getting comfortable. “Nah, I’m comfy.”

And so they stayed.

 

——

 

The two of them spent enough time under the tree for it to be considered a favourite spot. It was a place for them to converse in private, to talk of things that they would rather not be overheard by their parents, and so it became special to them.

It was theirs.

Once more they sat under the tree, eleven and fourteen respectively, as Kay fiddled with T’Pala’s hair, trying to braid it to it sat like a crown, curling around her head.

They had sat in silence, long past the point of requiring conversation to justify being in each other’s company. It had lasted long enough, however, and Kay had questions.

“Teep, do you ever feel... Weird?”

T’Pala was quiet, brows furrowing slightly.

“You will have explain further if I am to discern whether or not I feel ‘weird’.”

Kay sat back on her heels, squirming, uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. Do you ever feel like... Like something’s wrong? With you? Like you’re... Different, but not from other people, exactly, although maybe a little, but...” she groaned and hit the floor in frustration. “I don’t know! I don’t know how to explain it!”

T’Pala reached out a hand, touching Kay gently on the shoulder. “It is alright, you must not put so much pressure on yourself to explain this to me.”

Kay looked up at her friend’s face, eyes glistening.

“I just don’t understand.”

“There is no wrong in that.”

Kay stayed still for a moment, before nodding and lying down so her head rested on T’Pala’s legs, crossed as usual.

“You are aware that I do feel ‘weird’, occasionally. Perhaps often.”

“Yeah.”

“On Vulcan I cannot understand the other children. They are different to me because they are entirely Vulcan, and I find myself unable to connect with them. I cannot understand them. They find me overly emotional. Likewise, I cannot fully understand humans, mostly. My mother is different because I am used to how she behaves. You are also different, although I do not know why. Humans have ways of speaking that are unclear to Vulcans, and so I find it difficult to talk to either. I am a child of both worlds, and yet I understand neither. It makes interacting extremely difficult. In short, I believe I also feel ‘weird’. As if I do not belong.”

“Yeah, I guess, but that’s because you’re autistic. This is different, we already know I don’t have any problems with my ADHD.”

T’Pala had stiffened under Kay’s head. She sat up, looking at her friend.

“What’s wrong?”

She blinked. “Repeat what you have said about me.”

“What? All that stuff is because you’re autistic?”

T’Pala blinked, eyes wide.

“Aren’t you?”

“I... Have never considered it. They do not test for this on Vulcan. I had assumed it to be due to my parentage.”

“I think you fit the criteria.”

“I believe you are correct.”

The Vulcan sat still, sorting through her memories and wondering when she had displayed traits. Quite often, it seemed.

“Do you wanna go inside and talk to your parents about this, maybe?”

She nodded and stood, silent.

Somewhere during the walk to Kay’s house, she began to feel guilty.

“Sorry if I’ve just ruined your life or something.”

T’Pala shook her head. “I am... Surprised to not have noticed. I believe this is what you would classify as a ‘good thing’.” She turned her head. “Thank you.”

 

——

 

KIRK, K:  _ Teep? _

 

T’Pala raised an eyebrow at the message on her PADD. Kay only started conversations like that when something was important.

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I am here. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I don’t think I want to be a girl anymore _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Then perhaps you are not. Perhaps you have never been. Is this why you have felt ‘weird’? _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I think so. I’m not sure. I don’t know what to do. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ What advice have you already received? _

 

A pause in the messages.

 

KIRK, K:  _ You’re the first person I’ve told. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Then I am honoured you have put such trust in me. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ What do you wish from me? _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I don’t know. I hate being so uncertain. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ It may take you time, but you will be certain once more. I am sure of it. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ For now, I wish to help. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ What can you do? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Refer to you as you see fit. If you are not a girl, how would you wish me to address you? _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I feel like maybe I’m a boy? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Do you have a name you wish to be called? _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I don’t think so. Not yet. But I don’t want to be Katie. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be Katie. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I believe that is correct. I have always known you to be Kay. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I guess so, yeah. I always preferred to be Kay. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ And I guess it does seem neutral. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ But I don’t think I want to be Kay forever, either. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Would Kirk suffice until you find something more suitable? _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I think so, yeah. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Then it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirk. _

 

——

 

The conversation stayed in T’Pala’s mind. Something about it resonated with her - she knew she had never quite felt comfortable, but, like everything else, she had put it up to being half human.

She thought over it for days, weeks; all the control she had learnt within her thirteen - approaching fourteen - years was failing to remove the feeling of  _ perhaps that is me, too _ .

 

_ I don’t think I want to be a girl. _

 

The Vulcan, in the past, as an attempt to belong, had been found to emulate and copy others - T’Pala had often looked to the other children for how to react, how to not react, how to retain acceptably blank features - and T’Pala could not dispel the thought that perhaps this is what was happening now. Perhaps Kirk was a new example of how to be. T’Pala could not eliminate that worry, that all of this would be nothing more than trying to be just as someone else was.

 

Weeks passed, and T’Pala could also not remove the feeling that the universe finally aligned itself with words  _ I am not a girl _ .

 

There were questions floating of what that made the Vulcan instead, and the answer seemed to be that the only way to discover that was to experiment. There could be no consequences if he humoured himself internally.

 

_ He. _

 

He knew there were other pronouns, he was not limited to the two, but  _ he _  felt right.  _ Male _  did not exactly feel wrong, but did not feel as right as he thought it should, but  _ boy _ ,  _ man _ , and perhaps even  _ sir _ ,  _ mister _ , those were suitable enough. He thought that, perhaps, when looking at all of this as a spectrum, he was somewhere close to male, but not exactly.

 

He would have to collect data, of course. It was like a science experiment.

 

Form a hypothesis; he was not a girl. He had, perhaps, never been a girl. He was more comfortable with ‘boy’.

 

Collect data;

-A feeling of excitement and relief (un-Vulcan, he would need better explanations if he were to present this to others) when referring to himself with masculine-gendered terms

-A discomfort with being called by his given name

-A discomfort when his parents refer to him as “my daughter”

-An envy of the other boys

-A discomfort with his appearance; his hair, the shape of his face

-A variety of other instances similar to those above

 

Conclusion;

-He was not a girl

-He would need a new name

-This was all very un-Vulcan

-He wished greatly to tell Kirk

 

His original plan to keep these thoughts private would have to be changed. Now he was aware, keeping it to himself was taxing. He would tell Kirk before anyone else. First, however, he wished to find a new name.

 

“Mother?”

 

Amanda sat in her chair, a book in her hands - a gift from Winona, he recalled. She lifted her head, replying with simply “Mhmm?”

 

“If I were to have been born male, what would you and father have named me?”

 

She tilted her head to the side. “I think we were talking of naming you Spock.”

 

_ Spock. _

 

He nodded to himself.

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“Curiosity.”

 

A half truth at best. He did not yet wish to tell her.

 

_ Spock. _

 

He repeated the name in his head.

 

_ I am Spock. _

 

Yes.

 

That would more than suffice.

 

——

 

He wanted to tell Kirk. Kirk was the one person he felt he could trust with everything, his whole life, but especially this. He was his best friend, but more than that, he would  _ understand _ .

 

Spock wanted to tell him, ask for his help, tell him that he was (illogically) afraid, and ask for comfort.

 

He wanted to, more than anything, but circumstances interfered.

 

KIRK, K:  _ Teep, I’ve got some news. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ It’s a little bit bittersweet. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I believe you would say, ‘shoot’. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I’m going away for a while. It was a birthday present from my mom. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ She got me a ticket to a colony where my aunt lives, so I can see what life’s like off planet. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ You know I’ve never wanted to stay on Earth forever, so this is kind of like a trial period, I guess. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ But it means we won’t see each other for a while _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I just _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I thought you deserved to know, I guess _

 

KIRK, K:  _ Teep? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ When will you leave? _

 

KIRK, K:  _ Tomorrow. It was all very last minute. I just found out and I need to pack but I wanted you to know. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ I don’t know when we’ll get to talk, what kind of connection I’ll have or something. I’ll try my best. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ It’s not a goodbye or anything, I don’t know why this feels so heavy _

 

KIRK, K: _i_ _ ’ll miss you _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ And I, you, my friend _

 

Spock stared silently at his PADD. After a long pause, he went to type a message asking where Kirk would go, but was interrupted.

 

KIRK, K:  _ I should probably go pack. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Perhaps. _

 

KIRK, K:  _ Talk later? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Indeed. _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Happy birthday, Mr. Kirk. _

 

**

 

He woke the following morning to a final two messages.

 

KIRK, K:  _ Forgot to mention where I’m going (ADHD forgetfulness sucks sometimes) _

 

KIRK, K:  _ It’s called Tarsus IV _

  
  


——

 

He did not tell Kirk, because circumstances interfered.

 

Yes. Circumstances.

 

——

 

In the first two months or so, Spock had received a few messages from Kirk. Enough to know that he was enjoying himself, but was still thinking about him, and to ease the illogical insecurities he held.

 

He had not yet told Kirk, but felt it was better to do so at a time when they were together, rather than as a message left on a PADD.

 

Their conversations were not long, but it had been enough.

 

And then they had stopped.

 

Spock thought little of it at first. Kirk had been enjoying himself, and so it was understandable that he had less time to message him.

 

He ignored the lack of messages because he knew he could not expect to be the sole recipient of Jim’s attention.

 

He ignored the lack of messages because he told himself there were countless reasons Jim would not be messaging him frequently (or at all) anymore, and he would identify those reasons so he would stop thinking about reasons that were cause for worry.

 

He ignored the lack of messages, truthfully, because thinking about them weighed too heavy on Spock’s chest.

 

This, perhaps, was why he had reacted in such a way when he heard of what happened. Vulcans do not follow what humans title a ‘gut instinct’, but perhaps if he had, Spock could have done something.

 

——

 

It was an unremarkable day when Spock discovered what had happened. He had returned from school to find his parents conversing; something professional or serious, judging by the expression on his mother’s face. It was not his place to intrude, and as such he intended to retreat to his room and complete his homework quietly.

 

That was, however, before he heard what, exactly, they were discussing.

 

“— I know Starfleet is sending out whoever they can, but it doesn’t make it any less awful. More than half the population died, Sarek.”

 

“I understand, my wife, but there is no more we can do.”

 

“All we can do is hope whoever is left will make it off Tarsus, right?”

 

Spock froze.

 

“Mother?”

 

Amanda jumped. “T’Pala, I didn’t see you there.”

 

_ Breathe. _

 

“What were you and father discussing?”

 

“It’s just work things, there’s no reason to worry yourself over it.”

 

“You mentioned a planet. Please repeat its name.”

 

_ Breathe. _

 

“T’Pala—“

 

“Mother,  _ please _ .”

 

_ Breathe. _

 

_ Breathe. _

 

_ Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. _

 

“Tarsus IV,” Amanda responded, her eyebrows scrunched, expression worried.

 

_ Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. _

 

_ BREATHE! _

 

“T’Pala, are you alr—“

 

Spock ran from the room.

 

——

 

He grabbed every blanket he had in his closet, hands shaking as he lay them all together on top of his bed. He trembled, his control gone, searching instead for an external comfort. He slid under the layers, focusing instead on the heat and weight above him, rather than the thoughts and emotions swamping him.

 

He could not lose his control like this.

 

_ But Kirk was dead. _

 

‘More than half the population’, his mother had said. Kirk was only young; only just thirteen. He was small, too. His chances were slim.

 

His friend may be dead, and Spock hadn’t told him yet. He made excuses because he held too many fears. He didn’t tell his  _ best friend _ , and now he could not.

 

Kirk hadn’t told anyone else, either. His family would remember him as someone he had never truly been.

 

_ You do not know he was among those lost, _  Spock reminded himself.

 

But it would hurt so much more to falsely hope.

 

Spock curled further into himself, tugging hard on his hair, trying so hard not to let his hurt escape as sound. He wanted everything to  _ stop! _

 

“T’Pala?”

 

Amanda’s voice was tentative, quiet, as if she already knew her child was on the verge of a meltdown. She probably did, he didn’t flee like that very often.

 

“T’Pala, what’s wrong?”

 

He opened his mouth, and felt something akin to a weight crushing his chest. He could not speak. He could not answer her. The weight pressed down and all he could do was release a sound that was almost a sob, before he tugged hard on his hair. He should be able to control this. He was Vulcan. He was sixteen. He was no longer a child.

 

_ It should not be this hard. _

 

“Can you talk?” Amanda asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Spock shuffled the blankets slightly as he shook his head. Though she couldn’t see him, the silence of the action was answer enough for Amanda. “Alright. Can you stick your head out?”

 

He pulled the blankets tight around his shoulders and barely stuck his head out from the pile. His mother smiled at him, extending her hand in a question that was silent this time. With his nod, she released his hair, already half out of the bun it had been in previously due to his tugging, so she could run her fingers through it. Much as he hated to admit it, the action had always soothed him.

 

“Is this about the conversation your father and I were having?”

 

He nodded again.

 

“What about the situation caused this?” Spock stiffened from the relaxation he had been starting to feel. He didn’t answer. “No, sorry, don’t worry about answering that. Yes or no questions. I just want to understand so I can help you, but it doesn’t have to be now.”

 

Spock allowed himself to relax against the bed again, against his mother’s hand brushing his hair.

 

“Could you...” Amanda began after a long silence. “Could you meld with me to tell me what’s wrong? Would that be easier?”

 

Spock considered it, wondering why that hadn’t occurred to him before. He nodded his assent, reaching towards his mother’s face. His mind touched hers gently, not as deep as a meld would generally be, but enough that he could share these thoughts.

 

_ Kirk is/was/is/was— _

 

An internal argument, swiftly silenced.

 

_ Kirk has been on Tarsus IV. I am afraid. So many lost. Lost. Kirk is lost. I do not want Kirk to be lost. I do not want this. I am afraid/grieving/hope— not hope, hope hurts, hope— Mother, it hurts, please— _

 

He retracted his hand, left Amanda’s mind, shaking again. His mother was quiet.

 

“T’Pala...” Her breath shook, her eyes stinging with tears for her child, for his fears. She had so many things she wanted to say. To assure him Kirk wasn’t gone, but she didn’t know that any more than he knew Kirk was dead. She wanted to tell him she was there for him, that she loved him, but she couldn’t do that either. She couldn’t assure him Kirk was alive and couldn’t console him over his lost friend. She couldn’t pick a side in case she was wrong. She had so much to say, and yet could not say any.

 

With another deep breath, she settled on “I’ll call Winona,” and left the room.

 

——

 

He was aware he had work to do. He was aware that he could not stay here forever. He was aware that he could not hide from the world, hide from the fact that he might have lost his best-and-only friend, that his life was now  _ different _ . He was aware of all this, and yet he could not leave the artificial, illogical safety the weight and warmth the blankets resting on him provided. He had long since brought himself away from the verge of a meltdown, but the fear and grief and guilt were still present, and Spock found himself exhausted.

 

He tried to meditate in the position he lay in, to sort through his thoughts and emotions, and it allowed him to restore a semblance of ‘normal’. It was not as effective as it should have been, but it was the best he could do.

 

He was considering sleep when his mother returned, and a flash of anxiety crept up his chest. He did his best to push it down. Amanda knelt down next to his face, stroked his head, and smiled softly at him.

 

“Katie’s alive.”

 

In that moment, Spock was infinitely thankful that this was his mother and not his father, for he was certain his relief showed itself in a smile.

 

“She’s getting medical help, under constant supervision in one of the best hospitals on Earth. Physically, she’ll be fine in a few weeks, maybe. Mentally...” Amanda turned her head, searching for the words. “What’s she’s been through... It’s enough to turn my stomach just hearing about it. It won’t be easy on her.”

 

Spock nodded, a faint feeling of hurt drifting through him at the thought of what his friend was going through. It was overwhelmed, however, with the flood of relief that filled him knowing Kirk was still alive.

 

“Winona’s promised to keep us updated. It’ll be a slow recovery, probably. That ordeal isn’t something you forget easily.” Here she stopped to think again. “Kay’s a strong kid. She might not be ok at the moment, but I have faith in her. And she’s got a lot of people who love her to help her through. I think it’d be insensitive to call her lucky at the moment, but...”

 

Even without his mother finishing her sentence, Spock understood what she meant. Kirk was strong. He had Winona and Sam and he’d have Spock and Amanda and all of the people who cared about him there to help him. He was alive. It wouldn’t be right to call him fortunate - he still had a long recovery ahead of him - but he had a network of love and support that would be there for him whenever he needed them.

 

And Spock was going to do all he could to ensure he would be there for Kirk.

 

“I—“ His mouth was dry, his voice quiet due to his silence that afternoon. “I wish to see Kirk. I believe...” He paused. “I believe seeing—“ a slight hesitation “—her condition for myself would be beneficial. I wish to be there for my friend.”

 

Amanda’s eyes softened, a tiny, slightly sad smile curving her lips. “I’ll see what I can do. For now, I think you should sleep.”

 

He was somewhat reluctant to sleep. He knew there were things to be done, knew he still had work he should complete, but more than that he wished he could leave immediately to find Kirk and be by his side as he recovered, to tell him everything, tell him how important he was and how Spock felt illogically responsible for not questioning the lack of messages he was getting, tell him he would help in any way he needed because Kirk’s life was already so entwined with his own that a part of him had been missing for the short time Spock had presumed him dead. He wished to find words for everything he was feeling so he could sort through them and be strong for his friend. His mind had so many places it wanted to be, but most of all it wanted to be certain that Kirk was alright. To see for himself.

 

All of that would have to wait, however, because Kirk was on Earth, and Spock was on Vulcan, and as much as he wished he could, Spock could not reach his friend today. All he could do was rest, knowing his friend was alive and safe, being cared for, and that had to be enough as exhaustion ran through his body.

 

He would sleep, for now. Kirk would still be alive when he awoke.

 

——

 

Amanda had organised for the three of them to journey to Earth, using Sarek’s job as an excuse for taking Spock out of school. He was doing well enough that it wouldn’t seriously impact his education, but it was easier to tell them that they had to leave in order for Sarek to assess the impact the events Tarsus IV had on Terran survivors, as the Ambassador to Earth; “a half truth, and therefore not entirely a lie,” Sarek had said to explain his agreement.

 

Spock felt agitated and impatient as they planned the trip, but he managed to control himself enough that he did not outwardly express his state of mind. There was something about Kirk that made him singularly capable of interfering with Spock’s emotional suppression.

 

The journey to Earth had been almost unbearable, made worse by the fact that there was not enough time to reach the hospital between the time the shuttle landed and the end of visiting hours at the hospital. He had finally made it to the same planet as Kirk, and he would have to wait another day with the knowledge that his friend was close but not in reach.

 

“We’ll be here for a while, T’Pala,” Amanda reminded him. “You’ll have plenty of time to visit Kay.”

 

He nodded. Thoughts bubbled through his brain, left stewing during the journey.

 

“If you will excuse me, I must meditate.”

 

Amanda smiled and allowed him to pass, concern in her features.

 

——

 

He had done all he could to soothe himself before he saw Kirk. The boy had seen enough, and Spock wished to be strong for him, to use his additional three years of life and wisdom to guide his friend through his recovery. In the end, however, he could be no more or less than simply himself, but that was alright, because he was Kirk’s best friend. He, at least, managed to return his control to the way it had been before his near-meltdown.

 

Walking the corridors to Kirk’s room, flanked by his mother and father on either side of him, a young nurse leading them, it hit Spock that he was  _ finally _  going to see Kirk. The nurse stopped outside a private room, reminded them not to put too much strain on the patient, that a doctor would be on call if necessary, when the visiting hours finished, and that if they needed something for themselves, they could just ask any staff member who didn’t look urgently busy. Following that, he opened the door for them, and Spock would have cried if he were entirely human, because Kirk was  _ right there _ .

 

He sat up in a hospital bed, large and white and actually appearing quite comfortable, and turned when he heard the door open. He had always been slight, but as he sat there he appeared unhealthy thin, and Spock’s heart ached. His hair was long and untidy, obviously not a priority, and shadows lay under his eyes. He looked so different to the energetic and bright kid he had been the last time Spock had seen him in person, but then his face split into a grin as he saw Spock, and Spock could once again see the boy he knew so well.

 

The half-Vulcan pulled a chair right next to the bed and sat in it, twitching the corners of his lips at his friend.

 

“We’ll leave you two to catch up,” Amanda said, still standing in the doorway. “We’re so pleased to see you, Kay.”

 

Kirk smiled at them, raising the ta’al, making Amanda’s eyes soften before she returned the gesture. Sarek nodded at him, also returning the gesture, and the two of them left.

 

The door was closed behind Spock’s parents, leaving the two boys alone in the hospital room. They were quiet as Spock searched for words, the only sound being that of Kirk’s vitals beeping.

 

“I am... Beyond glad you are alive,” he whispered. Kirk looked over at him, taking in his lowered head, his slightly bent posture, and thought to himself that this seemed almost like curling into a ball for a Vulcan. As if knowing what Kirk thought, Spock straightened again. “We had not spoken for a prolonged period, and when I overheard my parents speaking of the planet you were on, of what had happened—“ he paused, breathing deep. “Forgive me, I should not be pressing my burdens onto you.”

 

Kirk smiled at him, not as bright as usual, impeded slightly by his obvious exhaustion. “It’s fine, Teep. And, y’know... None of it was your fault, and hey, look at me, still alive and kicking.” He chuckled weakly and kicked his legs, as if to prove his point. Spock felt the corner of his mouth switch upwards, because, yes, he  _ was _  alive. Here. With Spock.

 

“How are you?” Spock asked after a pause. As Kirk’s smile fell, he scrambled to fix whatever blunder he had made. “I apologise, I did not— I had remembered it was customary for humans to inquire after the well-being of one you have not seen for a prolonged period, it was not my intention to—“

 

“No, no, T’Pala, it’s fine,” Kirk cut him off, hands raised as if they would stop his friend’s panic. “You were right, people usually do that, it’s just...” Kirk sighed, dropped his hands. “Recently, all I’ve been asked is how I am, by everyone,  _ all the time _ . And—“ A puff of air, inflating his cheeks, as he fell back against the pillows. “And, after everything, it’s not an easy answer.”

 

Spock stayed silent, thinking over what to say next.

 

“I— I know no one really expects me to be alright but...” He toyed with the edge of his blanket. “Just because they don’t expect me to be alright doesn’t mean they’re ready to hear me tell them I’m not. And it’s just...” He trailed off, tilting his head back to stare at the roof. His fingers still tugged at the blanket. “I want to tell them I’m alright, because I  _ should _  be alright. I mean, I’m still alive. That’s better than a lot of people managed. I— I feel like I should be able to take that and be glad, but I’m not. I’m not glad I made it off, because I had to see so many others who didn’t, and I don’t know what to do because I can’t do  _ anything _  because they’re  _ gone _ . I— I should be grateful to have my life but I just feel guilty and people don’t want to hear that, they want to hear me getting better and being strong but I can’t be cheerful and smiling all the time because I’m scared and weak and I can’t  _ sleep at night _ —“

 

Kirk’s tearful words were cut off by Spock’s arms being flung around his neck and pulling him close. Spock held him tight, feeling Kirk cry against him, his smaller arms wrapping around him in return.

 

“I wish I were able to ease your pain, but I do not know how. My mother said it would be a long recovery for you, and I wish to help you however I am able. I am not skilled in comforting, but I will aim to do or be whatever you need. You are extremely important to me. I apologise for bringing forth these memories.”

 

Kirk held on tight, sniffling slightly. “I think that’s the most honest I’ve been about this.”

 

“I am grateful, once again, to be someone you are able to confide in.”

 

A small laugh. “Yeah.”

 

There was a pause as Kirk pulled Spock onto the hospital bed, holding his friend close for comfort.

 

“What do you need?” Spock asked, eventually.

 

Kirk was quiet for a while.

 

“I think I just need to talk about... Anything else. Tell me about your life recently. Tell me about what I’ve missed.”

 

“Very well.” Gathering his nerve, he thought of how to word his next statement. “I had wished to tell you sooner but was unable. I— I am as you are. I am... Not a girl. I do not quite understand it, but I feel that ‘boy’ fits well enough. I have been thinking of calling myself... Spock.”

 

“Spock?”

 

“It is what my parents would have called me had I been born male.”

 

“Mom says they probably would’ve called me Tiberius so I decided against that method,” Kirk chuckled. He shifted his head against Spock’s shoulder. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Spock.” Kirk grinned at him, remembering Spock’s own reaction to Kirk telling him the same thing.

 

“It is pleasing to see you again, Mr Kirk,” Spock responded, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

 

Kirk yawned, eyes dropping closed.

 

“I believe you should sleep.”

 

“Mmm, probably.”

 

“Would you like me to give you space?”

 

“Not really. I— I think I need the comfort.”

 

Spock nodded, lying back into the pillows, adjusting his arms so Kirk would be more comfortable.

 

“G’night, Mr Spock.”

 

“Sleep well, Mr Kirk.”

 

Spock was not exceptionally tired, but he was soothed by the warmth of his friend and the knowledge that he was safe, that despite everything Kirk was here with him. He could help him now, and even though they both knew it was going to be hard, they could do it.

 

He had thought Kirk was asleep, judging by his uncharacteristic stillness, until he spoke again. His voice was quiet, mumbled slightly, telling Spock that although he was not yet asleep, he was on the verge.

 

“The kids called me Jimmy. I liked that. Jimmy. Jim. James.” He shifted slightly. “I’m not ready to tell the story, but I will someday. Just— I like Jim.”

 

Spock nodded. “Very well, Jim. Sleep, now. We will have time to talk later.”

 

The room fell silent again, save for Jim’s soft breaths as he slept and the medical equipment. Spock’s mediation was interrupted (by his count, twenty-seven-point-three minutes after Jim had fallen asleep) by a nurse coming to check on Jim.

 

“My apologies, do you require me to move?” he whispered.

 

The nurse looked at Jim, still curled into Spock’s side, looking somewhat peaceful. They bit their lip. “Usually I would say yes, but I think she really needs the rest. She hasn’t been sleeping well at all.”

 

“Understandable.”

 

“Quite.” The nurse smiled softly at him, then at Jim. “I’ll come back later. This is good for her, I think.”

 

Spock nodded.

 

“Call someone if you need anything. The button’s by your left arm.”

 

The nurse left the room, turning the light off after them.

 

Spock felt his eyes become heavy soon after.

 

——

 

Spock’s parents returned to take him back to where they were staying at the end of visiting hours, only to find the two boys sleeping on the hospital bed together. Amanda covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, and felt a strong urge to capture this moment.

 

She gently woke her son, who blinked a few times, looking slightly dazed.

 

“We have to go for now. Visiting hours are over.”

 

Spock nodded his understanding, sliding off the bed as carefully as he could. He stood at the edge of the bed, watching over Jim’s sleeping form, eyebrows creased slightly.

 

“I do not wish for Kirk to awaken alone, yet I am hesitant to wake her. The nurse has said she needs rest.” He thought for a moment, took his coat from his mother’s arms, and lay it out over Jim’s shoulders. He nodded approvingly. “Proof that I will return.”

 

“Sweetie, it’s cold outside. You’ll need that.”

 

“Kirk requires the reassurance more than I require warmth in the brief time we will be outside. It will remain.”

 

“If you’re certain. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

 

Spock threw a final glance over his shoulder at Jim. He hoped Kirk’s awakening alone would not throw him greatly.

 

——

 

It was hard.

 

No one was exactly surprised, but it wasn’t any easier knowing.

 

Jim was exhausted, but reluctant to sleep. He was fussy, restless, trying to keep himself out of his own mind. It was hard when he was alone, but he was extremely grateful for Spock’s presence, whenever he visited.

 

Sometimes they would talk. Sometimes Spock would tell him stories, try and lull him to sleep. Sometimes Spock would sit by the bed and do his work. Sometimes, on days when they both wanted company but needed quiet, Spock sat by the bed and meditated. Jim was just glad his friend was there with him, no matter what they were doing.

 

He tried to tell Spock about Tarsus. Spock was his  _ best friend _ , there was no one else he would be more comfortable telling, and yet he couldn’t. The combination of bringing the memories back so soon and pushing it all onto Spock clogged the words in his throat.

 

Spock understood, because he always did. He didn’t push, he asked if Jim needed anything, if he wanted to be distracted or wanted time or just needed to be held, to be reminded that it was behind him, and he wasn’t alone.

 

The physical healing was easier, somewhat. Jim was moved from IV drips to liquids to soft foods before he was finally allowed to eat solids again. Someone always sat with him as he ate (sometimes a nurse, sometimes his mother, but usually it was Spock), making sure he wasn’t starting up ‘bad habits’, or so the Doctor had said. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he ate and chatted with whoever was watching him and didn’t complain.

 

The days and weeks blurred together, people constantly coming in and out of his room, endless visitors from school or around town or extended family, some he barely spoke to and some he was close to. Even Bones had taken time out a packed schedule (courtesy of pursuing a medical degree) to visit a few times. It would’ve been funny, he thought, the tragedy bringing people together like this. It would’ve, if it hadn’t been, well... Whatever the hell it had been.

 

Just over two months had passed, and doctors began discussing his discharge, the proceedings from there - check ups, visits, how they’d monitor him - and Jim wondered how Spock had managed to get this much time off planet in the middle of what he believed to be the school year.

 

“The Vulcan education system is primarily self taught. I am able to access and complete my work remotely, so I do not fall behind,” he explained. Jim nodded, because yeah, that made sense as to why Spock always had work to do if he hadn’t been to school in several months. With a tiny smile, Spock continued. “Additionally, my father is an Ambassador, which allows me a certain amount of... Leeway, which is not afforded to other children.”

 

Jim grinned at that. “So you get to miss school because daddy’s powerful and no one wants to say no to his powerful, scary Vulcan face?”

 

“I do not believe I said that.”

 

“That’s how I heard it.”

 

“Eat, Jim.”

 

——

 

They finally let him out, and it hit Jim that he hadn’t stepped out into the sun in  _ almost three months _ . He swore that should’ve been against some kind of hospital rule, but apparently it wasn’t, so Jim stood next to his mother’s car and grinned at the heat on his face. Winona allowed it, standing outside in the sunshine and the fresh air and thanking the universe that she still got to see that smile.

 

They stayed in San Francisco for a few days before they  _ finally _  went back home, and Jim hadn’t thought he could ever be this excited about going back to Riverside. He stepped into his room and it hit him that, up until that point, he had been convinced he would never be back here.

 

Spock came to stay with him, because of  _ course _  he did.

 

(Jim was beginning to wonder what he would do when the person he now just  _ expected _  to be there went home. What he would do when Spock couldn’t be at his side because he was on  _ Vulcan _ . It scared him, a little. Maybe more than a little. He didn’t think about it.)

 

In all the times he’d visited, Jim realised, Spock had never slept over. He’d always stayed with his parents at some hotel not too far away. The offer of the spare room had been presented to Amanda and Sarek, who had always politely declined.

 

This time, however, Spock was allowed to stay over. His parents still elected to stay in a hotel instead (“Guess Sarek can only take so much of that patented Kirk illogic, huh?” “That… Would not be entirely inaccurate.” Jim laughed until his face went red).

 

He was set up on a mattress on the floor of Jim’s bedroom, having refused every offer of the bed.

 

_ “Jim, I am a guest in your house, I have no right to take what is yours.” _

 

_ “Yeah, but on Earth we give our guest privileges to… Show we’re good hosts or good people or whatever.” _

 

_ “I am aware you and your mother are good people. You need not compromise your comfort for my sake.” _

 

_ Jim shook his head, a tiny fond smile on his face. “Alright, alright, sleep on the floor. See what I care.” _

 

_ Spock raised an eyebrow. “You care very much, Jim.” _

 

_ He laughed. “Shut up.” _

 

The nightmares should not have been a surprise.

 

——

 

The morning of the third day found the boys sleeping in positions that should not have been at all comfortable.

 

Jim awoke in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavy. He curled in on himself, trying to erase the dream -  _ flashback _  - from his mind. Trying not to cry. Trying not to wake his friend.

 

Trying to  _ breathe _ .

 

The young half-Vulcan had never been a heavy sleeper.

 

Spock sat upright, pushing up to peer over the edge of his friend’s bed.

 

“Jim?”

 

The younger boy shook gently. Spock tried to think of how his mother would approach Jim in this situation.

 

“Can you face me?”

 

Jim rolled over, eyes wide and watery.

 

Spock faltered. He was uncertain. He had never been the comfortable in reassuring others.

 

“What do you need from me?”

 

He hoped that was the right question.

 

Burying his face in the blankets, Jim answered him. “Distract me. Just... just talk. About anything. School, maybe.” He brought his knees further up to his chest as he lay on his side. “Remind me you’re here.”

 

Spock complied. He spoke of his studies, explained concepts Jim was unfamiliar with, discussed those they both knew. Jim did not want to sleep again, wished to continue talking, to feel secure in the knowledge that Spock was there for him.

 

They found themselves sitting as they did outside, leaning against their favourite tree. Spock had climbed into Jim’s bed, and sat with his back against the wall. Jim lay across the mattress, his head in Spock’s lap. The older boy spoke of space, a mutual point of interest, hands dragging through long hair. The conversation died down, Spock growing tired, feeling Jim relax against him. The older boy only allowed himself to drift off when he heard Jim’s breathing even out.

 

——

 

Jim’s mother had left them alone for an hour or so, apologising profusely, she hadn’t intended to leave them, but she had an urgent meeting to attend, she’d asked for someone to look after them soon, and she would be back as soon as she could, before running out the door.

 

In that time, Jim had decided what he intended to do.

 

“I’m just so sick of it! It looks horrible and I want it gone.”

 

“Your hair does not look terrible. However, I understand the wish to have it short.”

 

“It doesn’t suit me like this.”

 

“I would be inclined to agree.”

 

“I’m going to cut it off.” He paused. “Right now.”

 

Spock blinked. “Right now?”

 

“Right now,” he confirmed, running up the stairs to the bathroom.

 

////

 

Jim gathered his hair up high on his head, tied it up in a high-sitting ponytail, and reached for the scissors. Loosening the band slightly, he placed the scissors in the space between the hair tie and his scalp, breathed in deeply, and snipped.

 

His hair was too thick for that to have cut straight through it.

 

“Well that was underwhelming,” he chuckled. “Still, best keep going.”

He snipped again, slowly chopping away chunks of the thick rope of hair. It dropped away from the clump when he’d cut it, falling around his face, down his neck, bit by bit taking away this simple part of him that had caused so much irritation.

 

Spock watched on as minutes passed, Jim with his tongue between his teeth at he worked.

 

Finally, the scissors reached the other side, and Jim held 13 years of growth in his hand. He looked into the mirror, taking in the messy and uneven hair left on his head. He laughed. Spock quirked his lips slightly.

 

“This was, perhaps, not our best idea.”

 

“No kidding. I can’t keep it like this, can I?”

 

“I do not believe it would be wise, no.”

 

“Can you fix it?”

 

“I do not know how.”

 

“Well then,” Jim began, taking his brother’s razor, “I guess there’s only one other option,” he concluded, and promptly shaved the rest of his head. Spock watched him do so with barely concealed amusement. Once he had finished, Jim ran a hand over his head, brushing off the extra hairs, and looked himself in the mirror. “Much better.”

 

“I believe this, to borrow your earlier phrase, suits you.” Spock’s eyes were fixed to the short hairs now covering his friend’s head, wondering how they felt. It looked soft. “May I...”

 

“Yeah, you can touch it,” he said, grinning. Spock ran his fingers over the hair, eyes wide, enthralled by the softness. He had been right.

 

“I can get Bones to cut your hair when xe comes over. Xe’s good at that.”

 

“Bones?”

 

“Leonard, our babysitter. I’ve always just called xem Bones. Xe’s nineteen so xe’s only a little older than you, so I don’t really know why we need xem to look after us.” He shrugged. “At least xe’s cool.”

 

Spock’s eyebrows drew together. “Xe…”

 

Jim chuckled at his friend’s confusion. “Bones uses xe/xir/xem pronouns. Xe’s genderfluid.” 

 

Spock nodded in understanding. 

 

“Although,” Jim continued, staring into the mirror as he thought, “Sometimes xe uses he/him, if xe’s around people who still aren’t all that accepting, for whatever reason. Or sometimes people who don’t really know Standard, just to make it easier for them. I’m not really sure, I’ve always used xe since Bones first came out and transitioned.” 

 

Spock nodded again. “Well then, xe is three years older than me, and an adult, so I could see why our parents may wish for xem to take care of us. But all of this is besides the point; if xe is skilled at styling hair as you say xe is, why did you not wait to ask xem to style yours?”

 

With a shrug, Jim responded “I’m impulsive, what do you expect?” And that was that.

 

////

 

The doorbell rang not long after, and Jim went running down the stairs to open it.

 

“Bones!”

 

Xir eyes fell to Jim’s head, taking in the lack of hair.

 

“Aw hell. You know I’m probably gonna get blamed for that, Kirk?”

 

“How d’you know I did it?”

 

“Because I know you. Let me in.”

 

“Wait, before you come in,” Jim started, blocking the door. Then, with a deep breath and a falsely-confident voice, “I’m a boy, my name is Jim, and I need you to cut my friend’s hair.”

 

A pause. “Alright. You got any scissors?”

 

A blink. “That’s it?”

 

A chuckle. “Jim, I’m genderfluid. You really think I’m gonna have a problem with you being trans?”

 

An exhale. “I guess not.”

 

“Alright then. Let me in and I’ll help with this hair.”

 

Jim tugged Bones by the arm into the room.

 

“This is Spock.”

 

“He’s way older than you.”

 

“I am 16,” Spock said.

 

“Why couldn’t he look after you?”

 

“Mom doesn’t trust me.”

 

Bones stared at Jim’s head. “Yeah, I can see why.” Xe sighed. “Well, Winona’s already gonna be disappointed. C’mon, I’ll do your hair, Spock.”

 

////

 

Spock stood in front of the mirror, turning his head to and fro, looking at his pale neck, his shoulders, his back, no longer a curtain of black present to cover it. He kept his face blank, trying to control the nerves that arose at such a drastic change.

 

“What d’ya think, Spock?” Jim asked, smiling wide.

 

“It is… Adequate.”

 

“Adequate?!” Bones chuckled. “D’you know how precise Vulcan hairstyles are? That’s a damn masterpiece on your skull right now, kid.”

 

“It is, indeed, much more pleasing than my previous style.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” xe mumbled, waving him off. “I’m definitely leaving before your parents get back, though.”

 

“Logical.”

 

He continued to stare at his reflection, taking in how different he looked, how much more comfortable he felt, after something so seemingly simple.

 

“Jim?”

 

“Mhmm?”

 

“I do not know how I will explain this to my parents.”

 

Jim stared at the mirror, ran his hand over his head, and nodded. “That might’ve been an oversight.”

 

——

 

True to xir word, Bones left just after Winona let Jim know she was heading back.

 

“I don’t want any of the blame for this.”

 

“You did cut Spock’s hair, though.”

 

“Don’t tell her that!” Xe paused. “Or his parents,  _ please _  don’t tell the Ambassador.”

 

“What do you want us to say? That we did it ourselves?”

 

“Figure it out!” xe yelled, slamming the door behind xem.

The two boys stood in the main room, waiting for Winona to return, for them to have to explain their sudden style changes. It was quiet for a long time, Spock sitting on the couch, eyes closed, searching for the best way to tell his parents— his father. He was certain impulsivity such as this was not very Vulcan.

 

Jim was the first one to speak.

 

“Step one."

 

Spock quirked an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

 

“This is step one,” he repeated, more decisively.

 

“Step one?”

 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, step one.”

 

The half-Vulcan had yet to catch on to his friend’s train of thought.

 

“Step one to what, exactly?”

 

“Step one to changing, Spock. Step one to becoming myself.”

 

He could have made a million comments about how that was illogical; Jim could only ever be who he was, he could never  _ become _  himself, because that would imply he had not been, and that was illogical. He could have. He could have pretended he did not understand in favour of sticking to logic.

 

In a way, though, he could not have. Because he knew  _ exactly _  what Jim meant.

 

“Step one.” Spock said. “Indeed.”

 

////

 

Winona’s paused in the doorway as she entered the house.  

 

“Katie?”

 

A deep breath (he was getting used to those). “Yeah?”

 

“Your hair.” She gestured vaguely. “What happened?”

 

“I didn’t want it anymore.”

 

“You… Didn’t want it? So you shaved it off?”

 

“Y-yeah. Mom I—“ His heart raced. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was so much harder than telling Bones. “I don’t want you to call me Katie anymore. That’s— That’s not who I am. I’m… I’m a boy, and I… I don’t want to be called a girl, or wear dresses because I have to, or get called she or Katie and I—“ His voice cracked. He started crying. Spock lay a supportive hand on his shoulder.

 

Winona blinked, processing the information that had just been dumped on her.

 

“You’re… Transgender?”

 

He lowered his head, whispering a quiet “Yeah.”

 

“Is there… Something you’d like to be called instead of Katie?”

 

His throat felt too tight. Maybe he’d made a mistake with this, maybe it was too soon, maybe—

 

“He would prefer to be called James,” Spock said, hand moving to hold Jim’s wrist; enough to comfort him, but without the connotations of hand holding to Vulcans.

 

“Jim,” he whispered. He tried his best to project his gratefulness to Spock through their contact.

 

His mother put down her bag, walked towards him. “Ok. Ok, if this is what you want, or what you need, then I’ll support you through this.”

 

She kissed the top of his head, pulled him close to her chest. His arms wrapped their way around her waist. Spock stood back, not wishing to intrude.

 

“James is a good name. It suits you.”

 

He laughed into Winona’s shoulder, cried softly, held tighter. She squeezed him closer, moved away, wiped his cheeks clean.

 

“I’ve always wanted the best for you. I hope you know that. I’m just going to need you to tell me what that is. We’re a team, yeah?”

 

Jim nodded. “Yeah, we’re a team.”

 

“Good. We’re going to need an adjustment period, ok? I might get things wrong, and Sam might get things wrong, but you let us know, and we’ll keep trying.”

 

He nodded again, lost for words. “I’m—“ He cleared his throat, chuckling nervously as he wiped his face. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what you’d say and I’m overwhelmed and now I’m crying and—“

 

“Hey, hey, listen. You have  _ no reason _  to apologise to me.” She kissed his forehead. “You’re so brave, you know that? You’re so strong, and I’m so proud to have you as my son.”

 

Jim smiled wide, eyes glistening. His heart stopped crashing into his ribs with such force. His eyes stung, and his face was wet, and he was definitely going to be exhausted after this, but the weight of trying to be someone he never truly was left him. He was going to be ok. Better than ok; he was going to be  _ himself _ .

 

Spock watched on, his heart aching in his side. This was what he wanted.

 

Winona raised her head to look at him.

 

“So was yours an act of solidarity or do I need to come up with a second speech?”

 

“This... Moment is not about me,” he replied, doing his best to control his nerves.

 

Her eyes flicked over him. He kept his face as blank as he could manage, controlled as well as he could. Winona nodded to herself, held Jim in one arm, and opened the other towards him. “Come here.”

 

His heart squeezed in his side (illogical, that would indicate something serious, not simply nerves—) as he walked towards his best friend’s mother. She gathered the both of them into her arms.

 

“I love you both, and I want to support you as best I can. I don’t want you to be afraid of me, but I know it’s not always that easy.” Spock felt a kiss pressed to his forehead, the way his mother kissed him when she was trying to comfort him. A common gesture among human mothers, perhaps. “You can tell me anything, but only when you’re ready.”

 

Her arms comforted him, the same way his mother’s did, and he felt his worries ease. Illogical.

 

“I am like Jim,” he whispered, finally. “Mostly. I have asked him to call me Spock.”

 

“And would you like me to call you Spock?”

 

“I would.”

 

“Then I will.”

 

Jim’s arm held him from one side, Winona’s around his back, and he felt safe.

 

——

 

His parents didn’t mention the haircut.

 

——

 

Jim had been avoiding thinking about it, but he couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he was scared.

 

Spock had to go home. Back to Vulcan. Lightyears away. For a  _ long time. _

 

_ “It is unlikely I will be able to return until I complete my studies, Jim, you must know this.” _

 

_ He’d laughed. “I’ll be fine, Spock.” _

 

He was, very likely, not going to be fine.

 

Spock, with all his additional three years of life wisdom, was his rock through the Tarsus recovery, the first person he’d come out to, his  _ best friend. _

 

And now he wouldn’t see him for  _ months _ .

 

He took a shaky breath, staring at the driveway Sarek’s hovercar had just pulled out of.

 

He’d come out to Amanda before she’d left. Spock hadn’t, but Jim had guessed he wouldn’t be ready yet. He hope he would. Hoped he wouldn’t keep pretending so all the other Vulcans would approve. Were Vulcans transphobic? He had no idea. Maybe Spock could tell him.

 

He stood, wondering how long until they saw each other again. Spock had said after he finished his studies, but if he was going to the VSA, would it be longer? Would he ever come back? Would they drift apart now?

 

He recognised the signs of panic within himself, closed his eyes and  _ breathed _ .

 

“Hey, Jim!” Sam called from the porch. He walked down the steps, threw his arm around his brother’s shoulders. “C’mon, buddy, mom’s making lunch. Let’s go back in, huh?”

 

Jim looked up at his brother’s face, wiped his eyes, nodded. He tossed a glance over his shoulder at the empty road.

 

So maybe he wasn’t alright. But as Sam joked about punching anyone who gave him shit for coming out, told him he was proud, and mom was proud, and he’d bet all he had that dad would’ve love him too, Jim laughed wetly, and thought that maybe, with time, he would be.

 

——

 

His fears were unfounded, of course. They stayed in contact as best they could; a friendship as deep and strong as theirs wouldn’t break for something as simple as distance.

 

——

 

KIRK, J:  _ Hey Spock _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Guess what _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Spoooooooooooooock _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Jim? _

 

KIRK, J:  _ I changed my name _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Like, legally _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Mom did it because I cried thinking about getting Katie on my school results again _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Look at that little J! J for Jim! _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Congratulations, Jim _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ However, I believe it would be ‘J' for James _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Oh shut up, you _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I also was not aware that one had to legally change their name to alter the name on their PADD _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Semantics _

 

KIRK, J:  _ It’s symbolic, Spocko _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I do not believe I will ever understand you, Mr. Kirk _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Oh please, I know you’re smiling over there _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Lower that eyebrow, mister _

 

KIRK, J:  _ I know you _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ You continue to be a singularly illogical human _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Then why don’t you change your name, counter my symbolism? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P: _I_ _  believe there is a ‘method to your madness’ _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Your parents don’t know yet, do they? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ They do not _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Do you want to tell them? _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I do not know _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ They did not question my haircut, which removed a catalyst for the conversation _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ I do not know how to, I suppose, 'bring it up' _

 

KIRK, J:  _ I still can’t believe you actually type with quotation marks _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ Jim _ .

 

KIRK, J:  _ I know, I know _

 

KIRK, J: _  I think, in all seriousness, you just need to say it _

 

KIRK, J:  _ Amanda was super nice about it when I told her, and you’re her son _

 

KIRK, J:  _ She’s always going to love you, Spock _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ And my father? _

 

…

 

S’CHN T’GAI, T’P:  _ This silence is not helping _

 

KIRK, J:  _ I don’t know, Spock _

 

KIRK, J:  _ But your mom, she'd know _

 

KIRK, J:  _ You don’t have to tell them yet, but if you do, talk to her first _

 

——

 

“Mother?”

 

Amanda hummed in response, raising her head to face Spock.

 

“There is something I wish to discuss.” He had been mediating. He was calm. He would say this while his controls were strongest. He would not slip.

 

Her expression changed to one of worry. “Is something wrong?”

 

“In a way, yes.”

 

“What’s happened? Is it the other kids? Are they saying things again? Are they hurting you?” She moved closer to him, her PADD abandoned on the bed where she had been sitting in favour of holding Spock’s wrists. “T'Pala? Talk to me, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“Mother, I… I believe…” He paused, searching for words, how best to phrase this. “Mother, I am transgender.”

 

She blinked, as if that hadn’t been what she’d been expecting, followed soon by a relieved exhale. “Oh. Oh, sweetie, I know.”

 

“You… Know?”

 

She pressed her lips together. “I suspected.”

 

“How…” His question trailed off.

 

“Well, there’s the haircut, and that time you asked me what I would’ve named you if you were a boy, and the fact that Jim avoids calling you T’Pala like it’d kill him.” Her tone was light, slightly teasing, but she became serious again. “There’s also the fact that you… Wilt, slightly, every time your father or I call you our daughter.”

 

“Why did you not mention this?"

 

“Because I could’ve been wrong. Because you would’ve shut down if you were worried about how we’d react. Because I wanted you to be ready to tell me yourself.”

 

Spock kept his eyes from dropping to the floor, He kept them flickering over his mother’s features, what she wore today. Focus. “There is all this mention of being ready. I do not know how to tell if I am.” There was silence. “Does father know?”

 

“I’m not sure. I haven’t talked to him about it, if that’s what you mean.”

 

He nodded. “Will he…” Control. “Mother, is this… Illogical?”

 

Amanda blinked at him again, searched his face. Her eyes glistened slightly. “Can I hug you?”

 

A nod, and arms were wrapped around him.

 

“Sarek loves you. I know you don’t see it, and I know he can be tough on you, but it’s because he wants you to do well. I’ve seen his mind. I’ve seen his worry for you. All those times you were hurt as a child by the others, I felt what he felt. He cares so deeply. He won’t stop because you change your name.”

 

“You did not answer my question, Mother.”

 

“You’re asking a human what’s logical, son,” she chuckled.

 

“Spock.”

 

His mother smiled. “Come on then, Spock. Sit with me. We’ll talk.”

 

——

 

He was going to tell Sarek. He would tell his father, and things would get better, because he would not be hiding anymore. His mother’s words comforted him, and her support encouraged him, somewhat. So he would tell his father.

 

He saw Sarek in his study, and felt the anxiety spread through his chest. He controlled it as quickly as he could.

 

He would tell Sarek.

 

But not today.

 

——

 

In the end, he probably should have told Sarek on the same day he had told Amanda. Because he didn’t, it became easier to make excuses and put off the conversation. The day it finally happened, it was just about the polar opposite of how he had imagined it.

 

Spock was exhausted, drained, dysphoric beyond anything he had experienced before. The day had been one of microagressions against his mother and his human half, Jim had not messaged him in several days (he had an important and demanding school project, Spock knew this, but today was not a day for rationalisation), and he had heard “the false-Vulcan girl, hybrid girl, half-breed girl, girl, girl, her, she,  _ she she she _ ” too many times to bear. The small things all weighed on him, like the human idiom of the camel and the straw. His controls were frayed, and he intended to return to his room and meditate, or even sleep, as soon as he reached his house.

 

Of course, it did not happen like that.

 

He heard movement in the living room, expecting his mother, considering venting himself to her, removing this weight from his chest.

 

It was not.

 

“Good evening, my daughter.”

 

_ No. _

 

He turned to leave without acknowledging his father.

 

“T’Pala?”

 

He would not — he _could_ _not_  — respond to that. He could not hold a conversation with those words directed at him. He _could not do it._

 

“T’Pala, are you well?”

 

He broke. “Do not call me that.”

 

Sarek looked surprised. This was not how Spock had planned to have this conversation.

 

“I do not understand your meaning. That is your name. I do not know what else you would wish me to say.”

 

“It— It is not— I do not—“  _ Breathe. Control. Control. _

 

Sarek stepped closer. “You are shaking. I do not understand, please explain.” He looked… Concerned. Spock was trying to stop his shaking. This was not the way he was supposed to do this. “Speak to me, my daughter.”

 

His eyes scrunched shut. “Do not!”

 

His father stopped, standing awkwardly for a moment, before folding his hands behind his back.

 

“Please. I— I am not your daughter. I am your  _ son _ . As James is Winona’s son. I cannot— I cannot continue to pretend.” His voice broke, and he cried. He only became angrier at himself.

 

Sarek lowered himself to his knees. “You are a boy.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Katie—“

 

“Jim.”

 

“James. He is also as you are."

 

“He is.”

 

“Very well. Is there... something else you wish to be called?”

 

He blinked. “I would like for you to call me Spock.”

 

A nod. “Then I shall.”

 

To say he was confused would be an understatement. He pulled his shields tighter, regained control.

 

“Father, is it not... Illogical? To be as I am?”

 

“It is not.”

 

“I had thought that it was not the Vulcan way to deny what had been given, to wish for something you cannot, or do not, have.”

 

“You are correct, somewhat. It is the Vulcan way to accept things as they are, and if you believe you are not as you were born, then it is my duty to accept that. _Kaiidth_.”

 

“What is, is,” Spock whispered.

 

His father nodded at him. “You are as you are, and that is all you can be. We, your parents, have accepted your difficulties with control, your disorder, we must accept now that you are our son. This does not change what you have achieved.”

 

“Thank you, father.”

 

“We will discuss this further, and what actions you wish to take regarding this, at a later time. For now, I would recommend meditation, or perhaps rest.”

 

Spock nodded, and returned to his room.

 

——

 

S’CHN T’GAI, S:  _ Good morning, Jim _

 

KIRK, J:  _ You changed it :D _

 

KIRK, J:  _ I’m proud of you _

 

S’CHN T’GAI, S:  _ There is certainly a noticeable… Relief. _

 

KIRK, J:  _ It’s just gonna get better from here, Mr. Spock _

 

——

 

Jim closed the door behind him, with just a touch more force than was necessary -- he was a teenager, it was practically a rite of passage at his age -- and threw his bag against the wall. The tears he’d been fighting all day crept up on him. Finally alone, he let them come, but not without a wave of frustration. 

 

He’d call Spock, usually, but he knew his friend would be busy studying, and he needed someone with experience right now. He pulled out his communicator and called the only person he could think to call right now. 

 

“Hello, this is Leonard McCoy speaking.”

 

“Bones,” Jim whispered. He cleared his throat, but it didn’t help the tightness. “Bones, how did you-- I don’t know how--”

He sobbed. 

 

There was silence, for a moment. 

 

“Kirk?” Bones asked. “Jim?” 

 

Jim sniffled, swallowed. “Yeah, it’s Jim.”

 

“Hey, kid. You doin’ ok?” 

 

“I-- I don’t know. I’m-- I’m sorry for--” He made a frustrated sound. He just couldn’t seem to say anything without crying. 

 

“Hey, Jimmy, it’s ok. You can cry, or you can hang up and text me, whatever you need. I’m here, buddy.” 

 

“Buddy?” Jim mocked, a chuckle-sob ruining the attempt. “Since when do you call people buddy?”

 

“Since Jim Kirk calls me up, crying, after I haven’t seen him in over a year.” 

 

Another laugh-sob. “Fair enough.” 

 

“So what’s the problem? And why are you calling me and not going straight to Spock?” 

 

“He’s studying.”

 

“You know I’m in med school, right?”

 

Jim’s next laugh was closer to genuine. 

 

“Yeah, but you don’t have Vulcan instructors. They’re on another planet and I’m still afraid they’ll kill me with their Vulcan glares for disrupting a student’s progress.” Bones chuckled. Jim swallowed again. “And besides… I need advice from you specifically.” 

 

He could picture xir nod. “Alright, shoot.” 

 

“I just…” Jim paused. He sighed. “How did you deal with it? The transition stuff? It’s just… I know where I’m going, now. I know where I wanna be, but it just takes so long to get there. There are all these people I have to tell, all these questions I have to ask, and I just want to get it over with. I just want people to see me as who I am, and it’s so  _ frustrating _ , because I’m getting closer every day but it still seems so  _ far _ .” He was crying again. He sobbed, breathed in a deep, shaky breath. “It’s a long process, and I  _ know _  that, but… I guess I wasn’t ready to see how long it would take.”   
  


“Jim…”   
  


He heard the empathy in Bones’ tone, knew that xe understood. He pushed through.    
  


“I just-- I keep thinking--” Jim let out another frustrated sigh. “Bones, what if… What if, after all this, I’m still not happy?”   
  


Xe was silent again, for a moment. Xe sighed. “Jim… The thing is, kid, no one can tell you what it’s gonna be like. It’s different for everyone, and I can give you every detail of how it went for me, but in the end, we’re different. Our situations are different. We’re not the same person, and we’re not gonna react the same way. We’re not  _ meant  _ to.” 

  
Jim nodded, though he knew Bones couldn’t see him. He sniffled, wiped the tears that kept falling.   
  


“It sucks, sometimes. I damn well know it does. When I first came out, I was right where you are. I thought that once I’d finally figured it all out, it’d be easy. I thought that once my parents and my siblings and my friends knew, it’d all be fine. But damn, it was still hard.” A pause, a deep breath. “The truth is, Jim, no matter how much your family and your friends love you, and support you, and take you to all your appointments, deal with you figuring out whether you actually like dresses and makeup or whether you’re happier to just stick with the masculine stuff-- You’ll uh, you’ll probably skip out on that bit, I think that’s more a genderfluid thing--” Xe chuckled. Clicked xir tongue in thought. “The thing is, Jim, no matter what they do for you, if they’re not trans, they’re never gonna get it. And that can suck. That can feel really, really lonely.”   
  


The tears kept falling.    
  
“What you’ve gotta remember, kid, is that they  _ do  _ love you, your mom and Sam. They’ll wanna help you out. Even if they don’t understand, you should talk to them, because they can’t fix anything if they don’t know anything’s wrong. And hey, you’ve got Spock, who’s gonna jump at any opportunity to help you out, and you’ve got me. You can call me whenever, and I’ll call you right back if I’m in a class or something.”    
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got you guys.”   
  
“You’ve got us. You’re not alone in this. It’s not gonna be easy, even now with all this new shit we’ve got to help out. Imagine what it would’ve been like before you could get T implants, Jim. Weekly hypos-- or worse,  _ needles _ \-- for the rest of your goddamn life.”   
  
Jim laughed. “I don’t think it was  _ that  _ bad, Bones.”    
  
“I don’t wanna think about it too hard. Even  _ I  _ can admit that’d be hellish.”   
  
“Glad we weren’t born in the dark ages, hey Bones?”   
  
“God yes. Wouldn’t want this to be any more of a hassle than it is.” They fell silent, again. “You feelin’ ok now, Jim?”    
  
He nodded a few times. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m feeling ok. Thanks, Bones.”   
  
“Don’t mention it. I’ll drop by and visit soon, alright?”    
  
“Yeah, cool. I’ll see you soon, then.”    
  
“You take care of yourself.”   
  
“You too, Bones.”    
  
  
——   
  
Jim stared at his communicator, the strand of messages he’d sent Spock over the past week or so since he’d last received a response from his friend. It had been years since they’d last seen each other in person, and occasionally he worried Spock would grow up, find his place on Vulcan, decide he was too logical for some Earth teenager. He’d be an adult now, wouldn’t he? And Jim was still sixteen.   
  


With a groan, he threw his communicator onto the bed, not caring when it bounced onto the floor, and went to study for his physics exams. 

 

****

 

His stylus tapped rhythmically against the table as his eyes scanned the PADD. He ran a hand across his jaw, slowly shifting in shape. He imagined he could feel stubble growing, but it might have been wishful thinking.  _ Nearly five months _ . His heart still jumped at the thought of it. Jim had been aware from the start that the gel would be slower-working, and he was somewhat impatient, but the thought of an injection weekly didn’t sit right with him, and he couldn’t get the implant until eighteen. The needles and hypos he had to get for allergies were bad enough, he’d opted against any more if he could avoid it. 

 

Still, that had been a good birthday present. 

 

_ Distracted _ . He was getting distracted. He needed to solve these equations he’d been given for homework. They were easy, which was likely the problem. They just couldn’t hold his focus. 

 

The doorbell - a replica of an old-style that his mother and him and built together as a summer project a few years back - rang through the house, giving him an excuse to move away from his work for a time. 

 

Halfway to the door, he realised he didn’t know who it would be. Surely not his mom, she said she’d be out for another hour or so. Bones wasn’t even in town at the moment, and Sam was currently studying off planet. His friends from school, maybe, though they usually called if they were coming over. 

 

Running a hand through his hair - he’d need it cut again, soon - he opened up, a teasing remark for a classmate about homework they should be doing dying in his throat. 

 

All that emerged was an awed whisper of “ _ Spock _ .“

 

The Vulcan stood on his porch, a substantially sized suitcase resting next to him. He wore black dress pants paired with a blue button down Jim had mailed him a few months ago. He wasn’t wearing his robes, and something about that struck Jim as  _ significant _ . 

 

The boy was shocked, somewhat speechless. Rightfully so, he thought. He hadn’t seen Spock in three years, and there he was, standing at his door. Should he invite him in? Ask what he’s doing here? Why he hadn’t responded to any of Jim’s messages in almost two weeks? Why it looked like he had his whole life packed up into the single suitcase and satchel slung over his shoulder? 

 

“You’re taller than me,” was what eventually came out of his mouth.

 

The eyebrow raised, followed by an “indeed, it appears so,” which was the first thing Spock had said to him since he’d opened the door. Jim’s eyes bulged. 

 

“ _ Oh my god _ , Spock, your voice!” He laughed. “You’re on hormones!” 

 

There was a tiny quirk to the Vulcan’s lips. “I am, as I have been for one-point-seven-three years.”

 

“That’s almost two years! Two years! Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have the implant?”

 

“I did not inform you as I felt it unfair. When I began, you would have been only fourteen, and most likely too young to be prescribed testosterone. As for the implant, I do not have one, as of yet.” 

 

“Are you kidding me? You kept that from me for so long because you didn’t want to make me jealous? You know I was on blockers by then, right? And I told you as soon as I started using the gel! Why didn’t you tell me then?” Jim, finally paused to breathe, the final part of Spock’s response clicking. “Wait, you don’t have the implant? But you’re nineteen! If I were you I would’ve gotten it at midnight on my birthday, how could you wait so long?” 

 

Spock blinked at the onslaught of questions, processing the flurry of words momentarily. “I will admit, when you informed me of your prescription I considered informing you of my own, but reconsidered. I believed it may have been too long. Prior to any more questions, if you do not mind, I have had a strenuous twelve-point-seven Sol days, and would appreciate the opportunity to enter your house.” 

 

“Right! Yeah, of course, come in. You can put your stuff up in my room and I’ll get the spare room set up later, and you can maybe tell me what you’re here for? And how long you’re staying? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic to see you, but this was a… Very sudden visit.” 

 

Spock followed him up the stairs, hefting his luggage with him; Jim would offer to help, but he was well aware it would be too heavy for him. “I apologise, for that and for my lack of response to your attempts at contacting me recently. As I said, my recent life has been… Eventful.” 

 

“Yeah, I’ll bet. You would’ve just finished your entrance exams for the VSA, right? And I bet you’re all busy getting ready to go do fancy science stuff and be an adult and all that.” Jim held the door to his room open, picking up clothes and books he’d left lying around; he really hadn’t been ready for a guest. "Do Vulcans move out of home at this time? Are you moving out? How are you making time among all this to come to  _ Earth _ ? When are you going back?” 

 

Spock dropped his bags neatly at the end of the bed. “I had planned to stay with you until the commencement of the September semester at Starfleet Academy, at which time I will likely move into the dorms there.”

 

Jim stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the pile of shirts in his hands back onto the floor, straightening up. He stared at Spock’s stiff form, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed on the wall behind Jim’s shoulder. “What?”

 

“It is sudden, I understand this, however I need only find accommodation here for a period of three-point-two weeks, following which—“ 

 

“Spock, stop, just, shut up for a second,” Jim broke in, holding a hand up to silence his friend. He breathed in, deeply, eyebrows scrunched. “I don’t care that you’re staying with us, that’s fine, I’m still stuck on the fact that you’re  _ joining Starfleet _ . Since when?”

 

“You are aware I applied to Starfleet at an alternative to the Vulcan Science Academy, should one be necessary.” 

 

“So, what? You didn’t make it in? Spock, you’re a  _ genius _ , even by Vulcan standards, how the hell did you  _ fail the entrance exams _ ?”

 

“You misunderstand, Jim. I was accepted into the VSA, being able to pass the exam quite comfortably.” 

 

The situation was making less sense by the second. 

 

“Then why the fuck are you  _ here? _  Why aren’t you back on Vulcan in your  _ home _ , getting ready for your super logical research career?”

 

“I… ‘Turned it down’, I believe would be the phrase.” Spock’s eyes fell to Jim’s face, taking in his clear shock. “They referred to my mother, my human heritage, as a handicap, my successes being ‘in spite’ of my mother’s genes. They did not care that I am transgender, they did not care that I am autistic, that did not matter, and yet I attempted to accept, to embrace, my human half and I am no longer welcome—“ 

 

Jim took in the tightness in Spock’s jaw, saw him silently reprimand himself, and something told him that this was not entirely about the VSA. 

 

“My apologies. I did not wish to attend an institute that viewed half of who I am, something I cannot change, as something impeding my success. They made a distasteful comment regarding my mother, and I declined my offered place.” 

 

Spock watched silently as Jim sat on the swivel chair that sat next to his desk. He gestured to the bed. “Sit down, Spock.” The teen waited until his friend had done as he requested. “The VSA isn’t what you’re upset about, is it?” 

 

They were both silent, which was answer enough, but Jim waited for the words to be spoken. 

 

“It is not,” Spock admitted, finally. “I… I am no longer welcome in my home. My house. My residence on Vulcan.” That explained the earlier aborted rant, then. “I had thought father would understand, would even sympathise, perhaps. He has faced much similar prejudice regarding his marriage and bonding with my mother. I was incorrect.” He stopped, but looked as if he wished to continue, so Jim stayed silent. “Perhaps… I believe he may have thought I would be willing to withstand the comments, as he does, to pretend they do not affect me. However, those who have mocked me have always been correct in one respect; my control is not as strong as that of my father, of a true Vulcan.”

 

“Well that’s just bullshit.” 

 

Spock looked startled at that. Jim sighed. 

 

“You’ve always held yourself to unrealistic standards, you know that? You’ve got a lot more going on than the average Vulcan, and if you think your dad’s some kind of perfect, emotionless being in full control all the time, I’ve got some news for you.” The boy bit his lip, sighed again, looked up at his best friend’s face. “I don’t think you should ever have to be anything other than exactly who you are, Spock. Because you know what? You’re pretty damn cool.” 

 

Jim wasn’t quite comfortable being so open, usually. It wasn’t something that came naturally to him, and it was awkward when it happened. But the gratefulness he caught in Spock’s eyes? That made it all worth it. 

 

“Thank you, Jim.” 

 

He smiled. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk about how much you’re comfortable with me telling mom when she gets back. We’ll set up the rooms later.” 

 

—— 

 

He’d gotten somewhat used to Spock living with them. It was helpful to have someone around he could bounce ideas off for projects, or someone who could help out with his homework (Winona did what she could, but she worked hard, and Jim understood that she didn’t always have time), or someone who was just  _ there _ , all the time. 

Despite that, when it came time for Spock to move into the Academy dorms, he wasn’t sad about it. It didn’t hurt like it had last time, when Spock had gone back to Vulcan. Maybe because he was closer, or maybe because Jim didn’t feel like he was losing his friend. Spock was staying on Earth, for at least the next three to four years, and then he’d be joining Starfleet. He wasn’t going to Vulcan, wasn’t going to decide he was too logical for a human best friend, and in his more selfish moments, Jim was… Kind of glad at how this had turned out. 

It made his higher education choices easier, at the least. 

 

——

 

Jim’s eighteenth birthday saw him in San Francisco, eyes closed as he was led to a surprise gift. He had joked, on the journey over, that the real surprise was that Spock had planned something so illogical for him, but he mentally retracted that when it was revealed to him where they were. 

“We have a double appointment under S’chn T’gai.” 

“Of course. This way, sirs.” 

He was guided through corridors, utterly lost, Spock’s hand on his shoulder the only certainty as he walked blind.

Once he was seated - somewhere, a surface he thought felt like a hospital bed - Spock let him own his eyes.  

It was bright, and he was indeed on a hospital bed. Screens with diagrams of anatomy and the chemical compounds of hormones  surrounded him, and things started clicking together. 

“I had thought we might take this step together,” Spock said at last. 

Jim blinked, shocked, disbelieving, and thought there may just be a growing wave of  _ excitement _  creeping up on him. 

“I’m getting the implant?”

“Indeed. As am I.”

“Did you plan this?” At Spock’s raised eyebrow - because  _ of course he had, this was strictly by appointment _  - he rephrased. “I mean, is this why you never got one before?” 

“Partially, yes. It was also due to the fact that they were unsure how to perform the procedure on a half-human on Vulcan. San Francisco, however, was more equipped to working with such a being as myself.” 

The younger man nodded, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that  _ this was really happening _ .

A doctor entered not long after, smiling at the two of them. 

Jim blinked, eyes wide.

_ “Bones?” _

Xe winked at the two of them. Jim’s head whipped around to look at Spock, a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth.    
“I had made the request for Leonard to perform the procedure.”

“I only agreed with the hobgoblin because I haven’t seen you since I finished my degree.” Xe chucked. “Gotta say, I hadn’t expected you to get tall.” 

Kirk simply sat on the bed, near speechless, overflowing with gratitude.

“Alright, alright, let’s do this before it gets too emotional in here. Are you two ready?”

With a quick glance over at Spock and a heart quickening in anticipation, Jim responded with a shimmer to his eyes. 

“I was born ready.” 

“Well then,” McCoy flashed them a grin, “here’s how it’s going to work...” 

 

——

 

When Jim graduated at the top of his classes, he tried to attribute it to Spock’s tutoring. The Vulcan refused to take the credit. 

_ “I did not complete your exams. I did not study for you. Your achievements are your own, your mind is yours. This success is entirely you, Jim.” _

He had grinned on stage, looking into the crowd to see Spock, his mother, Sam and his girlfriend supporting him. 

When he was accepted into Starfleet Academy, no one was exactly surprised, but it did nothing the dampen the excitement in the Kirk household. 

After so long, his life was falling into place. He could see where his future was going, and it was  _ bright _ . 

 

——

 

Spock had taken teaching positions following his graduation, which meant he and Jim saw each other  _ every day _ . 

Pike had promised him a position aboard the flagship, with the potential for a quick promotion to First Officer once he’d gained some experience out there, and provided any more superior officers didn’t turn down commands for the spot. He had  a hunch - and that was surely an indication of the time he’d spent surrounded by humans - that he was some sort of ‘poster boy’ to encourage more Vulcans to join Starfleet, but he was not going to, as it was said on Earth, ‘look a gift horse in the mouth’. 

In any case, it wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve the place. He had completed his courses in three years, rather than the standard four (which Jim was now attempting to do as well, no one could claim the man was not determined. Or competitive, for that matter), and he had been top of his classes. The ability to view his friend’s progression in his education was a bonus. 

The two of them were able to spend more time with each other than they ever had previously. Despite having known each other for the majority of their lives, there was still much he had missed out on in the years they had not seen each other, details they had never brought up. Spock discovered Jim was an excellent chess player, although their styles and strategies were so very different. They versed each other often, and found themselves to be a fair match. Spock wasn’t sure why he was surprised, he should have known by then to never underestimate James Kirk. 

They were both active members of the xenolinguistics club, in which only three of the surprisingly vast number of members were fluent in Vulcan, the third being a young woman by the name of Nyota Uhura. She was a xenolinguistics major, and paired her deep love for language with a quick wit and a good sense of humour. She and Jim had quickly earned each other’s respect as intellectual equals and sparked a friendly rivalry. 

Jim’s friend “Bones”, who Spock had not seen since xe was nineteen, had enlisted alongside Kirk following a short-lived attempt at married life. At twenty-five, xe left behind a young daughter and an ex-wife in search of a more authentic purpose to xir life. 

As his group of connections, his group of  _ friends _ , grew slowly, Spock found himself considering the life he had left behind on Vulcan, and finally released any remaining regrets he still held regarding his decision. He had found what he had been looking for. 

 

——

 

Spock took medical leave in order to receive and recover from top surgery prior to taking his place on the  _ Enterprise _ . 

He should not have done so.

In the time he was not teaching at the academy, Jim had taken the Kobayashi Maru simulation two times, and immediately upon his return he discovered Jim’s plan to take it a third. He should have known.

Jim didn’t give up, didn’t believe in no-win scenarios, didn’t admit defeat. But he also wasn’t a fool. He didn’t expect to be able to just keep trying and suddenly find an answer without changing something. 

Technically, he cheated. 

It was probably the first time they really, genuinely fought. 

_ “You should not have altered the test,” he whispered harshly, standing stiff in the doorway to Jim’s dorm room.  _

_ He blinked, stepped aside. “It was the only way.”  _

_ “You cheated, Jim.” _

_ “The whole simulation is a cheat! It’s unbeatable!” _

_ “That is not the point!” _

_ “Then what is?” _

_ “One is supposed to display their ability to keep control under strenuous conditions, the ability to command their ship when there are no easy answers, to make the necessary choices when there is no ideal outcome.” _

_ “What about alternative thinking, hmm? What about the ability to come up with new and inventive solutions? Isn’t something like that what a Captain needs?” _

_ “You cannot change the parameters of a crisis, Jim! The simulation is a test of character, it does not need to be beaten to pass. A failure to win is not a failure of the test. You have misunderstood.” _

_ “It’s not that easy, Spock!” Jim snapped. “I can’t just give in, I don’t work like that! I thought you’d get it! I thought you should know me well enough for this!” _

_ “This... This is not a personal matter, I cannot make exceptions for you simply because you are my friend—” _

_ “So what are you gonna do, then? Court martial me? Take away all I’ve worked for over a technicality? Is that your plan?”  _

_ Spock reeled. Never, in all the years he had known Jim, had he heard his friend so... Bitter. So immensely angry. It scared him.  _

_ “Jim...” _

_ The other man scraped his nails over his scalp. “I really thought you’d appreciate it, the out-of-the-box thinking,” he whispered. He suddenly sounded tired. “I don’t want to have to explain myself to you, Spock.”  _

_ “Jim, I did not intend—“ _

_ “Yeah, I know. Just... I need space, I guess. Could you... Could you go, maybe? We can talk about it later, I guess.” _

_ Spock had nodded, confused, regretful, uncertain how that conversation had gone so wrong, and left. _

 

——

 

He almost didn’t get the chance to talk to Jim about it. He almost lost the chance to speak to Jim, about anything, because both of them (all of them, the whole crew, but most importantly  _ Jim _ ) had  _ almost died _ .

Vulcan, what had once been his home, was gone. His people faced the danger of extinction, he had almost lost both of his parents, and whatever anger he had felt at Jim’s solution to his simulation vanished. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he had charged Jim over that, whether he would have lost his place in Starfleet. They likely would not have had time to rescue the council, Spock’s parents. It wouldn’t have mattered, because they would have died as well. The Enterprise would have gone down with every other starship that responded to that distress signal. 

But he hadn’t, and they were still alive. 

There was an oddly familiar Vulcan elder, yet one he had never seen before, and an eccentric, to say the least, engineer, neither of whom Spock remembered beaming up at any time. Yet, he found he did not care. There were far more important conversations to have. 

“Spock.”

His father’s voice made him freeze. 

“My son. Our people have perished. Our planet is gone. Our numbers are scare. It is no longer logical, nor has it ever truly been, for our avoidance of one another to continue.

“Your decisions have saved our elders, have saved your mother. I should not have doubted you, denied you place in our home.” 

Spock continued to stare out the window of the observation deck. 

“James Kirk is my t’hy’la,” he whispered. “You must know this before you attempt to welcome me back into your family. I will never live the life you wish for me.”

“My son,” Sarek whispered. “It has taken me this long, yet I find that all I wish for you is a life in which you are fulfilled.” He paused, stepped closer. “Does he know?”

“I have only just discovered the fact myself.”

“Then you must find him.” 

 

——

 

He intended to find Jim, to have the conversation with him. In the end, though, after Sarek left, Jim came to him. 

The now-Captain entered the observation deck, and upon seeing him had immediately stated blabbering. 

“Spock, listen, after everything that happened I just needed you to know how important you are to me, and I’m sorry for cheating on your test and getting angry at you and it just seems so  _ petty _  now and I just—“ 

“Jim.”

 

He stopped.

 

“I do not know how I missed it before, but obviously I have been inattentive.”

Jim’s eyebrows pressed together, an expression of confusion Spock was all too familiar with. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I should have known. Our lives are so tightly bound; no two beings should be so drawn together from their first meeting without meaning, I should not have dismissed it—“

“Spock, what do you mean?” His eyes searched the Vulcan’s face for his answer. 

“We are t’hy’la.”

There was a silence.

“Oh,” Jim breathed. “That... Makes sense.” 

“It has taken me far too much risk and loss, but I cannot imagine a life where we are separated. We are bound. My place is, and has always been, wherever you are.”

“Is this your roundabout way of asking me out?”

Spock smiled slightly. “If that is what you wish.”

A gentle brush of fingers.

“Then yes, Mr. Spock. I would be honoured to stand by your side. To the edge of the galaxy and back.” 

 

——

 

Their first meld was a swirl of memories stemming from both their minds. A rush of thoughts and memories both of them had missed in their years apart. 

_ They called me Jimmy on Tarsus. The other kids. I used to break into people’s houses to get food, because I knew how to pick the locks. One of the other kids with us was trans, and she started trying to help me pick a name. _

 

*

 

_ “And what about you? What’s your name?” _

_ “It’s… It’s Katie, but I hate it, so you can just call me Kirk.”  _

_ “Why do you hate it?” _

_ “It’s just… It’s just not me.” _

_ “Kirk, are you… Are you a boy?” _

_ He’d rubbed his neck nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m a boy.” _

_ “You haven’t picked a name yet?” _

_ “No, I… I haven’t really told many people. I told my best friend, and she’s been really good about it. I just told her to call me Kirk,” _

 

*

 

Jim winced at the pronouns.  _ Sorry _ .

_ This is a memory, Jim. _  There was a flurry of amusement.  _ You did not know, at the time. _

  
  


*

_ “Well if you haven’t picked one yet, we’ll just have to help you find one… Ned.” _

_ “Not Ned. Definitely not Ned. Pick something better and maybe I’ll listen.” _

 

The surroundings shifted. Jim was thinner, and so was the girl he had been talking to. They curled up together, a group of other kids surrounding them, all trying to keep warm. 

 

_ “How ‘bout Jimmy?” the girl offered weakly. _

_ “Jimmy?” _

_ “Yeah. Like James. Because you’re so damn good at jimmyin' locks for us.”  _

_ His eyes fell shut. _

_ “Yeah. Jim. I like that one.” _

 

*

 

_ They all started doing it after that. I kept it to remember them, and how strong they all were. _

_ You were strong as well, Jim. You must not forget that. _

A wave of love, of gratefulness. 

_ Ok, your turn. Show me something I don’t know. _

 

*

 

_ “It is truly remarkable, Spock, that you have achieved so much, despite your disadvantage.” _

 

*

 

Jim had a feeling he knew what this was. 

 

* 

 

_ “All rise” _

 

They all rose. 

 

He saw him, then. Spock, standing in front of the other Vulcans, holding himself tall. 

 

_ “If you would clarify, minister; to what disadvantage are you referring?” _

 

The Vulcan in the centre stared down at his t’hy'la, and although he knew this was a memory, a part of him had a great urge to punch the guy. 

 

_ “Your human mother.” _

 

The urge grew. 

 

_ “Council. Ministers, I must decline.” _

 

_ “No Vulcan has ever declined admission to this academy.” _

 

_ “Then as I am half human, your record remains untarnished.” _

 

_ “Spock,” _

 

Jim knew that voice. Sarek. He saw Spock’s father, saw the disapproval, and his stomach sank. 

 

_"_ _You have made a commitment to honour the Vulcan way.”_

 

The disappointment faded as another memory pulled his focus.  

 

_ “Who you are does not change my opinion of you, Spock. Insulting the elders, refusing the Vulcan Science Academy, will do no more than confirm their beliefs that you are flawed in your control.” _

 

He looked furious; as visibly furious as a Vulcan could be. Jim was shocked, somewhat. This was not what he had expected from that conversation, this level of complete disgust.

 

_ “Sarek.” _

_ “He must **understand** , Amanda. There must be consequences.” _

_ “Who I am, father, is not only your son, but I am my mother’s son as well. I am a child of two worlds, and this one does not want me. I wish to join Starfleet, in the hopes that somewhere, or someone, will.”  _

_ “If you do so, I will have no choice but to cease communication between us. You will no longer be considered a resident of this house, nor will you be welcome as a guest.”  _

_ “Sarek, don’t you dare!“ _

 

That’s another thing Jim hadn’t considered; Amanda’s role in this. She never would have agreed, would she? She never would have wished to send her son away like this.

 

_ “We have indulged him, wife. He cannot make a decision considering none but himself and not experience repercussions.”  _

_ “Sarek, he’s our son. You can’t disown him for his choice of career path!” _

_ “Mother, do not fight this. It is clear now that no matter the decision I make I will not be accepted by he-who-I-called-father, one whom I had incorrectly assumed would understand and support my choice to follow a path of my own creation, as he himself has done. I will find alternative lodging for the evening, and will board next transport to Earth.” _

_ “Spock,” Amanda whispered, “you don’t have to go, you don’t have to listen to him.” _

_ His eyes softened. He would regret having to leave his mother in such a way. “You are incorrect. I must. It will be for the best.” _

 

Jim watched, then, as Spock packed his things - that suitcase, he remembered it, what was now so many years ago - and left Vulcan, for what he hadn’t known would be the last time.

 

*

 

_ And then you came to me. _

_ Indeed . _

_ It was so long ago, wasn’t it? Yet it hurts me to see that. _

_ It is in the past, ashaya. I have taken steps to repair the relationship with my father. _

They were quiet, for a time. Jim was absorbing the feeling of being so close to another, as he had never been before.

_ Was it worth it, leaving your planet? Did you find what you wanted? _

A soft thread of love encircled the both of them.

_ I believe it was. I have found my home, on the Enterprise, with you. _

_ Yeah _ . Jim wanted to hold him. They’d have to break the meld at some point, but he settled for mentally wrapping Spock in the warmth of his affection.  _ I love you too. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
